Chapter Text
“Alright.” Mike says, clapping his hands as Lucas, the last one to enter in Will's room, closes the door behind them. “Alright, now you don't have him all over you being touchy-touchy and fucking with your head.”
Lucas sits on Will's desk chair with a groan, scratching one of his temple, “He says he has magic or something, did he put a spell on Will?”
Dustin scoffs, with his arms still crossed and still looking a bit offended from before, “Paladin doesn't have that kind of magic, Lucas, you should know that!”
“Yes, well, we don't really know that, do we? I mean, we know how a Paladin from D&D works but is his world actually from D&D? With the same dynamics and all? I don't think he needs to throw a die in charisma to convince Will to follow him.”
Will sighs and he wishes to look annoyed, or irritated, but as he talks, his hands are trembling – he feels agitated, on edge, exposed. “Guys, he didn't convince me at all, I don't want to go in another dimension again!”
I really envy you. I bet in your dimension you can love freely. God, he did really say that last night, uh? He can feel Mike's eyes on him, judgmental, as if he can totally read what's on his mind right now, and the guilt gnaws in his stomach now, it hurts like a heartburn. But it's true, Jesus, it's true that he doesn't want to go, no matter how tempting it sounds living free to be what his inner child always wanted to be before dying, Will doesn't want to be stuck in another dimension again – he has enough trauma for a lifetime, honestly – and he doesn't especially want to leave his life behind, no matter how miserable he has felt in this last couple of weeks, he would never do this again to his mom and Jonathan.
“Of course you don't want to! Putting aside the thrilling experience you had in the upside down,” Dustin says sarcastically, obtaining a glare from Mike at that, “why would you go to another dimension just because a Mike told you? I mean, it really sounds like he wants you to replace the Will he lost. Not cool, dude.”
“No offense, man,” Lucas talks to Will but he raises a hand towards Mike, who shots up an eyebrow at that, “but he seems impossibly more clingy and possessive than Mike has ever been with you, why would you want to put up with that?”
“None taken, man.” Mike responds to Lucas, and he really sounds like he's taken offense – Will, filled with panic and fear, almost hysterical laughs at that. He meets Mike's eyes, at last, and he is staring hard at him, the residue of the despair from before still tightening the skin of his face, his mop of hair in disarray, lips pursued and nostrils flared. Will is sure Mike is hearing the fight they had yesterday, of how Will said that this is what he wanted, what he wished for, the echo of his confession looming over them like a shadow, an omen.
“I'm–” Will inhales with a trembling breath, fighting against himself not to lower his eyes from Mike's – because he already told Mike, so maybe blurting out once again wouldn't be so gut-wrenching as he fears. Not that he's afraid of Dustin and Lucas, God, no, he knows that they love him, and they will accept this weird part of him just like Mike and Eleven did, after all, but... fuck if it's hard. “I have to tell you something.”
Mike frowns, and shakes slightly his head, “That's not what I– I didn't bring you all here for you to–”
“What's happening?” Dustin asks, as Lucas scratches again his temple, confused.
“No, I know. It's okay.” Will tries to smile at Mike, but he doesn't believe he succeeded. He then looks down at his shoes, “It's just... guys, it's my fault if Micheal is here in the first place, I somehow opened the damn gate with a– a wish, and it's really so stupid because it's not like I didn't wish for things since the day the demogorgon got me– It's all just messed up, and I messed all up because I am messed up–”
Mike's voice is broken, “Will–”
“No, please, just– let me talk, or I'll lose my nerves.” Will chuckles wetly, because he knows he's starting to cry but he just wants to let everything out before doing it – and really, he's so sick of crying, he seems like he didn't do anything else this past two days. He pushes the heels of his palms into his eyes, in a mere attempt to stop the tears, “I am in love with Mike,” he confessed, and he hears a choked sound that he almost thinks it's Mike, “and being with Michael who loves me back even if it's in a messed up way it's been heaven and torture at the same time, and the thought that I could have it, in a world where I am accepted, I just– I am weak, and stupid, and a fucking freak, guys I am so sorry...”
At last, for it being because of embarrassment or shame or humiliation, Will just crumbles on the floor in the middle of the room, palms still squeezed in his eyes, knees pressed up against his chest. He's openly crying now, of course, with quiet hiccups and sobs filling the silence, and he still feels raw and vulnerable and dirty, but he also feels lighter. Whatever happens, Will is free – at least with his friends. It should mean something, right?
He doesn't have to wait long before arms start to hug him – he kind of expected it, but it still makes him wonder. Through the cut between his fingers, he sees dark ones encircling his middle, pale ones almost around his neck and head, and hairy ones – since when Dustin has become hairy? – around his chest. With the corner of his eye, Will sees their legs next to him, they must have sat in a mess of limbs on the floor just like him, and Will feels his heart almost burst out of him with affection and love and, God, no matter how much it hurts if he's going to live the rest of his life without a relationship, all he needs is just this and he would never it give up for anything at all.
“Come on, guys, let him breathe.” Mike is saying, and Will can feel his lips moving against the crown of his head.
“Then why don't you scoot over? You are the one suffocating him.” Dustin responds to Mike, and he sees one of his arms move to push at him, Mike immediately returning the gesture.
Mike sniffles, and his voice is proud when he talks, “Because he's in love with me, so I'm surely the only one he wants to hug with.”
“About that,” Lucas clears his throat, but just like the others, he has no intention to pull and let him go, on the contrary, he actually hugs Will with more fervor, “Will, we love you no matter what, thank you for coming out to us, but, come on, why Mike? I mean, why not me? Sure, I am taken, but I am a hundred times more of a better boyfriend material than he'll ever dream to be.”
“Hey!” Mike snaps, and Will feels fingers bury into his hair. Mike's? They feel like Mike's, they're long and warm, the nails are uneven and they were caressing his scalp with the utmost care, so much that Will would fall asleep just like this if he could.
Lucas scoffs, “Don't hey me, we all know how your relationship with El went.”
Will sniffs, passing one last time a hand over his eyes to wipe away the tears, feeling now calm but with his chest full of the heat he craved since he got taken in the upside down, and for maybe the first time since then, he feels the tip of his fingers warm. He's not cold anymore. “Thanks, guys.” he says, voice raw but earnest, as he softly tries to disentangle himself from their grips, “You're the bestest friends ever.”
The only one who doesn't let him go is Mike, who bristles, “I am your best friend.” he says, as his hands cradle Will's face to dry the last of his tears wetting his cheeks. Will almost melts at this gesture – it's so different from Michael, God, this is the only thing he wants, just this, Mike looking at him with this tenderness, this gentle touch – his eyes that seems brighter than Michael's, and there were a little less freckles populating his face, and the way he stares down at Will is just more... Mike. It's him. It's always him.
“Can you leave something for us, too? You already are his favorite, apparently, you can leave the role of best friends to us. Thank you, appreciated, glad you now are aware everything doesn't revolve around you.” Dustin says, pouting at Mike, who snapped a categorical no.
Will laughs and sniffles once more, “Don't worry, he lost a couple of points when he rejected me, so. You two are now my only best friends.” he has meant it to be a joke, really, truly, but he can't help but let out a bit of bitterness into his voice. This is what he wanted, he swears to himself, he wanted for his friends and for Mike to treat him like this, to accept him and love him despite this part of him, he never expected Mike to reciprocate his feelings, but– liar, liar, liar.
It still hurts very much.
Mike stiffens, Will notices his stillness perfectly considering that his arms are still around his shoulders and has no intention to let go. Lucas coughs, while Dustin hums and looks at Mike disappointed, “Is that why you are being insufferable this past days? More than usual, I mean. Orbiting around him like a moping satellite every time we're together just to end up rejecting him? Shame on you, Wheeler.”
“Oh, fuck you, Henderson.” Mike flips him, and Will sees how he's turning slightly red over his cheeks and at the tip of his ears. Cute, he thinks. God, it has it so bad.
Lucas sighs, “I really thought you were about to come out right after Will, but as always you're a constant disappointment.”
“Guys, please, don't make fun of things like this–” Will says, mortified. He didn't tell them about the rejection for them to be offended in his regards, and especially he now doesn't want them to make Mike's life a living hell just because, God, he made Will wishing for what he craved the most.
“Who makes fun of what? I am very serious.” Lucas clicks his tongue, staring deadpanned at Mike.
Dustin nods, pointing a finger at Mike, then bring it to his throat, miming a slicing. “Yeah, I quote that.” he emphasizes the words with a very low and serious tone.
Mike swats at Dustin again, then he groans out loud, “God, I hate all of you. Not you, Will, obviously, but you two, I swear, are in my black list. If I ever see you dying in the middle of the road, I'll just go take my dad's car so I can run you over and end your miserable lives myself. And I'll do it laughing.” then, he throws his hands in the air and looks at the ceiling, “You want another coming out scene? Fine, here you are served.” When silence falls around them after his words – Will can't think, his mind completely blank, he mustn't have heard correctly, right? – Mike turns his face down at Will again and grabs his shoulders, gently, his dark eyes open wide and lips slightly moist, “Will. I didn't reject you.”
Will blinks. Way to go, Wheeler, he hears Dustin mumble next to him, Lucas' shadow moving in his periphery to maybe elbow him or something, “Mike. You certainly did.”
“No, I didn't, I just... didn't say anything. I didn't answer, because– I– Will, I'm not– brave like you, alright? I needed time to think, and I made things awkward I know, because I couldn't even look at you in the eyes and all I had in my mind was you and I felt so, so sick because I was not brave enough to even give you an answer but– but I– to you–” he inhales sharply, grip tightening on Will's shoulders. Will stares at him in awe, heart beating fast, so fast in his chest with... with what? Fear? Expectation? He doesn't want to hope again– “But just the thought of losing you is unbearable, I don't want to live with your absence ever again because I– Will, I–”
Will hears Dustin hold his breath, while Lucas squeals, “Ohhh, he's gonna say it!”
“I can't live without you, Will. I– I can't literally live without you.” Mike says, ignoring Dustin and Lucas, eyes only on Will. His face is raw and vulnerable just like Will feels, but his touch is firm, his voice is too, he doesn't waver, he's not lying – not that Mike has ever lied to him before, but Will can't blame himself if it's so hard to believe him. “If I can't see you, even for a day, I feel like I'm going crazy, and I don't ever want to feel like this– when you disappeared I felt like I was losing my mind, and shit, when you went to California? I had nightmares about not seeing you ever again and– and when we're together sometimes I feel things and I can't connect my head with my mouth, and I always fuck up– Will.” Mike stops to take some air, red in face because he has blurted out all in one breath, and a wave of fondness falls over Will at how Mike looks so flustered and embarrassed. He's actually sorry he's saying all of that in front of Dustin and Lucas, so Will almost turns and asks them if they could maybe get out, but before he does that, Mike continues, “Will, I think I know if this is love already or, or I don't fucking know, but please give me time? And help me understand?”
Will nods, head fuzzy and heart still beating like crazy – he feels on cloud nine, as if he's on some higher plane and he's floating. He's head over heels, he's completely gone for good, how is he supposed to get over Mike Wheeler? He just can't. Especially now. He's not in love with Will, or maybe he already is, and it's okay– it's okay, they have all the time in the world. Help me understand, Mike has said, and God, Will can't wait. He's going to show him, to show Mike what he feels.
“Okay, happy for you guys but it's starting to be gross.” Dustin breaks the silence that fell over them as Will and Mike just stares at each others, contemplating – mesmerized, in Will's case. “And I don't mean because you are two boys but exclusively because it's gross, ugh, get a room.”
Lucas hums, “Should we leave them the room?”
“Oh my God, guys, you're the worst. Get the fuck out!” Mike snaps, swatting at the both of them, careful not to hit Will by accident placing a hand over his head as a shield, and Will blushes, grabbing a hem of Mike's shirt in a fist, there at heart level, and if Mike asks about it, he'd just say it is to steady himself – not a lie, but not a truth either. He looks in awe as he can faintly feel Mike's heartbeat against his knuckles.
Lucas stands, taking Dustin's elbow to help him do the same, “Hey, man, congrats to coming out,” he says, and he ignores Mike grumbling: well, technically I didn't but sure okay thanks, “Let's go, Dustin, let's leave the two lovebirds alone.” he singsongs, as Dustin starts to make continuous smooch noises even once he's almost outside the door.
Mike picks up the first thing his fingers found on the floor – one of Will's old and scuffed slippers, for his huge embarrassment – and throws it at them as they cover behind the closing door, “Tell the imposter to go fuck himself, he stays with me!”
When they're gone, Mike sighs and leans until his head rests over Will's shoulder, his arms closing around Will's middle. Their legs are bent awkwardly and tangled together, but Will doesn't dare move, he doesn't even dare breathe, fearing to break the thin, comfortable mood they are in. “Thank God we are finally alone.” he murmurs over Will's neck, and Will shivers as he can feel the movement of his lips against his skin, “I swear, I felt like I was going to die back there... you weren't saying anything and...”
“I wouldn't have never.” Will breathes, then frowns. There's something bugging at him, something that it doesn't sit right and it's gnawing, twisting his thoughts. “Um.” Will hums, and he hesitantly brings his hand on Mike's forehead, so he can raise it from where he has buried it in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He groans, annoyed, but he does as told, “You didn't– you didn't tell me those things just because you were afraid I would have chosen to go with Micheal, did you?”
Mike shrugs, and the tip of his ears turn red, “Well, yes, of course I did.”
“Oh.” Will feels his blood run cold, a weird sensation in his guts, similar to falling. He swallows a lump, a bitter taste in his mouth, and blinks, “So it was just a... a what, a way to show who's got the bigger dick? Were you just being petty? Did you make that speech just out of spite against Michael, knowing what I feel for you and that I would chose you over him, over everyone?” Will's voice, gradually, gets higher, and angrier. He pushes at Mike, not hard but enough to put distance between them, “Do you actually mean what you said?”
Mike gasps, and before Will can actually walk away, he takes his hands in his just like he did when he knocked at his door earlier, “Yes, God, yes! Of course, Will, how could you– did I ever lie to you? If you ask me if I– I confessed because I was scared shitless to lose you then yes, Will, yes. I just told you that I can't live without you, and even the thought of you, for how impossible it sounds, to follow a stranger somewhere far away from me– makes me lose my damn mind. It's not about being petty, it's about stopping you to leave me!” he pants, eyes wild and eyebrows furled, the redness widened so much that now it's hard to notice the freckles under the blush. “Why it's so hard to believe me?”
“Because you said that your life started the day you met El.” Will says, with no inclination in his voice, a void in his tone he has mastered over the years and uses whenever he happens to speak about what hunts him. He tried very hard not to think about what Mike said to Eleven when she was fighting in the sensory pool, Will sat silent and heartbroken next to him, his words carved on his skin like a torture – apparently, he's good at forgetting the worst moments in his life. But now, how can he ignore those words, when Mike is saying the exact opposite? “You met El when I disappeared.” he finishes, and it's a matter-of-fact. It is what it is.
Mike is shaking his head even before Will stops talking, his face even paler than usual, an horrified expression twisting his features. “No. No no no.” Mike's nostrils flare, looks at the ceiling for a quick second, before letting go of Will's hands to bring his palms on his cheeks, cradling his face like the most precious thing he has ever touched. Micheal did the same sweet gesture to him the other day, but... God, how can Will even compare the two? It's a different touch whatsoever, it's filled with years of friendship and building love. Nothing can ever rival this. “Okay, don't tell this to El or she's really going to kill me this time.” Mike waits for Will to swear, before continuing, “I never said a single real thing to El that day. I– I am ashamed, and I'll probably burn in hell for this but– Everything I told her in that moment, it was just because I thought it was what I needed to say to save the day. But I, I didn't mean– it wasn't real. I didn't mean a single word I said. Especially that, Will, you– I know I hurt you and, God, do I have a lot to make up to you alright, but I thought you knew.”
“How was I supposed to know?” Will knows he's whining, but he can't help it. It's hard to believe and sometimes Will things Mike is just a big dummy – and yes, it's his charm, but...
“I don't know, I– part of me had always thought that you must have known it was bullshit.”
And Will, really, can't stay mad at him for long. He's never had the strength to do so, even when Mike totally deserved it – and now, he melts like ice near a fire, as Mike stares at him with puppy, sorry eyes. He can't really resist, “You are a little stupid sometimes.” he just says, thinking that maybe it's just him the stupid one, and not Mike.
“Yeah, I am.” Mike hums, his gaze softens as he looks down at Will, “And I'm about to do something even stupider now.” he leans down and, gentle, still with Will's face in his hands, plastered a kiss on Will's lips. It is quick, a taste, plump lips smacking against his mouth with a wet noise, just a smooch and nothing else, but it is enough to set Will on fire more than he's ever been before. “Can I kiss you?”
Will gulps, saliva pooling into his mouth as his eyes fall on Mike's lips, so close and yet not close enough. Seeing how Mike is smiling, knowingly, Will guesses that he's not being subtle at all. “You sh– should ask before doing... it.” he manages to say with a sigh.
“Oh, right.” Mike hums again, then again falls on Will pliant lips, kissing him for a couple of seconds longer than before, but still not long enough. “Can I kiss you now?”
Will, at that, can't restrain a giggle that reverberates around the room, and he sees Mike perks at that, as if he's proud of himself for making Will finally laugh. He laughs right against Mike's slightly open mouth, and Will notices how Mike looks like he almost wants to drink the sound, moving his lips towards Will's stretched ones as if he's parched and Will's laugh is promise to quench the thirst. Still giggling, Will lunges at Mike's mouth, he kisses him happy and carefree, sucking at his lower lip, then at his upper, then he giggles and chuckles and laughs again as he plasters Mike's mouth with little kisses just because Will finally can, he can do it just like he always dreamed to – always wished to.
Will climbs over Mike's legs, and Mike immediately accepts him on his lap, the hands on his face falling on Will's hips to stable him. It's Will's palms, now, that cradle Mike's face to bring again their lips together, and even if he's still feeling giddy with happiness and excitement, he doesn't laugh now, no – he's all instinct and need, wrapping his plump lower lip again between his own, biting, sucking, licking. Mike's breath is heavy, and follows Will's eagerness with the same fervor, fingers anchoring at Will's thighs now as he pushes his tongue against Will's, and it's messy and Mike bites Will more time than he can count, their teeth keep clanging and their noses bump as they change so very often the angle – they both don't know what they are doing even if it's not a first kiss for either of them, but Will thinks it's perfect all the same.
They have to catch their breath after a while, maybe after hours or maybe minutes in which they just keep kissing, all over again every time they stopped, as if they can't have enough so they just keep taking, and taking, and taking. At last, when their hearts are fulfilled, Mike is staring up to Will adoringly, his eyes now and then falling on Will's lips again, and Will chuckles as Mike kisses the tip of his scrunched nose instead.
Will not once has thought about Michael, but now that he looks at how Mike's head leans down on Will's mattress, and grabs Will's elbows to pull him down on his own lips again, he can't help but be reminded of the other night. As they kiss languid and slow this time, Will thinks of how desperately writhed under Michael, how it almost hurt to be with him, the miserable way he had felt knowing that he couldn't have that with the one he really wanted, maybe with no one at all. With Mike, he feels lighter, brighter, where he is meant to be. Maybe he should feel guilty to have used Micheal like this, to take advantage of his grief for his needs and wants and wishes – but all he feels now is a gratefulness for the outcome, because probably Will would have stayed alone with that Mike-shaped hole in his chest all his life, and Mike would have never had the courage to open up, to confess, too wrapped up in the same shame that hunts Will.
He is really a bad person.
“Jesus, Will.” Mike pants, giving Will one last smooch on the lips with a loud smack. “Can't really believe it's the first time you kiss ever.”
Will blinks at him, and Mike rises an eyebrow in question. “Um.” he hums, “Not that I have... plenty of experience whatsoever, but– not my first, actually.”
“What?” Mike places his hands on Will's shoulders, pulling away. Will feels like whining at the loss of contact, but the bewildered look on Mike's face stops him from complaining. “Who the hell have you kissed? Was it in Cali? El had said something about a crush, buy, I've never– I– you haven't paid attention to anyone, you never had, uh, interest in anyone, how–” he grimaces, and he looks so disappointed that Will feels really, really guilty. A bit hypocritical considering Mike had kissed a lot of times before, with his sister nonetheless, but. Yeah, he feels guilty the same. “I'm not your first kiss?”
Will bites his lips. They are swollen, just like Mike's. “Well, you sorta are?”
It takes a moment for Mike to understand, and he pales, than flares. His expression changes a dozen of times in the span of a minute, in which silence has chilled the room. He passes from disbelief, to betrayal, to grief, then settles on fury at last, “Fucking God. I fucking knew I had to stay the night! You said he would have slept on the couch!”
“We were on the couch...” Will quietly says, a mumble that Mike hears perfectly, considering his dramatic reaction at his words. In fact, he groans out loud, slap his hands over his own face, a string of curses and fuck me and kill me now choked behind his fingers, and Will laughs, he starts to giggle again, almost hysterically now. “Mike, come on, I'm sorry– I wanted you, you know that– I literally thought about you– are you jealous?” he manages to say through the giggles, trying to lower Mike's hands so he can see his face again.
“Of course I'm jealous. By nature, but especially when it comes to you.” Mike says still hiding behind his fingers, his voice muffled and subdued. “I feel terrible. I really feel terrible. I want to jump off a cliff again. I want to fucking kill a stupid Paladin version of me and then myself.”
“You're overreacting. It was just a kiss. Well, more than one, actually–” now Will is doing it on purpose, yes, God he's loving this jealous side of Mike. Mike Wheeler is jealous of him. Incredible, unbelievable. Will feels full, the bubbles of happiness growing inside of him at every groan coming out of Mike's mouth, a loud one just after he specified he and Micheal kissed more than once. “I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, alright?”
Mike opens two fingers to look at Will back, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Will nods, smiling as Mike lowers his hands. It wouldn't be an hassle, no matter what Mike asks of him. The one that has to make it up the most to the other is Mike, after all. And Will just wants to live, right now. Live and love and– maybe more–
Will doesn't even hide the way his eyes fall on Mike's lips, and Mike surely notices, as he smirks, “Now?”
“Whenever. Every day. Forever.” Will shrugs, his mind already wandered, a fixed thought clouding his head as his eyes point only on Mike's half-open mouth. Will is needy and wanting, and now that he finally has what fills him it seems he can't get enough – he just hopes that his neediness and want won't bore Mike at long last. He really shouldn't think about it.
Mike smiles, content and proud, then grabs firmly Will's hips and lowers him on the floor, a swift but clumsy gesture that almost make Will's head hit the floor hard, if it isn't for Mike to sneak a protective hand in his hair to soften the bump. Then, as Will stares up at him in wonderment – Mike is beautiful, with his curls softly falling over his cheeks and neck, pale skin colored of a deep red, eyes bright and tender and wanting, he wants this just like Will – it's Mike's turn to straddle his hips to fill him with kisses, one on his lips, then cheeks, then the tip of his nose, then over his eyelids, then his forehead, his chin, his jaw. He mumbles: I wanted to do this for so long over the skin his throat and that makes Will shivers, goosebumps popping all over his body, a tension in his belly that's lovable and unbearable at the same time.
Will grabs Mike's neck and at the curls at the back of his head to pull them hard, and Mike follows compliantly as Will brings him to his lips, and kisses him, kisses him languid and messy and dirty, all spit and bites. Kisses him for seconds, for minutes, for hours. If I die here, like this, exactly like this, I'll die happy, he feverishly thinks, feeling hot and warm and heated.
Please, if I have to die, let me die just like this.
Will does feel a little guilty, when he and Mike finally comes out of his room and joins the others. He can't quite look at Michael in the eyes, choosing just to stare at the tip of his shoes, and occasionally swatting at Lucas or at Dustin when they make some funny retorts about what Will and Mike had done when they were alone and why it took hours before they returned to the land of the living. Will feels embarrassed about that, but Mike looks vaguely proud as he gazes at Michael, a winning smile on his lips. Will knows Mike is petty and jealous – by nature, Mike had said back in his room – so he tries very, very hard not to think that this is all a game he has won against Michael.
Eleven looks at him with a eyebrow raised, but she seems satisfied. She points at the faint hickeys Will surely has on his collarbone and mimes with her mouth a later we have to talk, you have to tell me everything! Will can't really tell her everything, or Mike really will get killed, but he nods with a blush and a smile as he tried to hide the marks with the shirt collar, and she pursues her lips, content. She's happy for him, thankfully. Part of him has always feared she'd resent him for his feelings towards Mike alone, but Eleven never did and she still doesn't, even now that they are not merely one-sided feelings anymore – Will feels lucky. Really lucky.
“I have to believe you have made your choice, my liege.” Michael says, and Will startles. He can feel Mike stepping closer to him, his hand hovering over his lower waist, a presence that feels comforting but that makes him feel even more guilty for it. Will nods at Michael, and he, still sitting on a chair at the table, immobile as a statue and totally inexpressive, narrows his eyes, “And the choice is you will not follow me home, correct?”
Will shakes his head, “Not my home.” he says, voice thin.
“Could have been. You would have been magnificent, in my realm, William. As you have always been.” Michael gets up with gracefulness, stares with an undecipherable expression Mike standing behind Will – he doesn't see Mike's face, but he can guess it's not much different than Michael's, maybe filled with more venom; Mike is never been good at masking his feelings, especially the negative ones – then smiles fondly at Will as he says: “I respect your choice, even if it pains me. All I wish is for you to be happy in every realm, my love.”
Mike huffs, one foot banging rhythmically on the floor, a clear sign of impatience. “Yes, well, if you care so much you just get the hell out of here. You know, the time is ticking and the end of the world is closer the more you stay here.”
“Hypothetically.” Dustin points out with a sniff.
“Yeah, you want to risk it? Risk Will's happiness? No. So, open a gate and get on your marry way.” Mike hisses when Will elbows him, and rolls his eyes at Will's murmured behave, do it for me. “Please?” he adds, and he sounds so fake that Eleven, Lucas and Dustin simultaneously grimace.
“I will.” Michael somberly says, then he rises a hand towards Will, a humble request, “William. I wish to bid you farewell, but alone, if I may ask. Accompany me to where you found me, kindly.”
“Oh.” Will blinks, heart clenching. He feels sorry, and the sorrowful face Michael is making isn't helping to make him feel better. “Yes, sure, of course.”
“What?! No!” Mike cries out loud, turning to look at Will as if he's going crazy.
Will points a fingers against Mike's chest and whispers, not really quietly, “Mike, it's the least I can do. It's my fault he's here, I called him and all I did was using him then discard him once I had you. I've been awful. If he wants this, it's really the least I can do!” he chides.
Mike widens his eyes, and gasps, “He literally wanted you to follow him in another dimension, did you forget? What if he tricks you and push you into the gate against your will or something?”
“Would you?” Will crosses his arms and rises an eyebrow, “Would you do it?”
Mike splutters, “We're not the same person, Will.” then, he bites his lower lip, “Maybe. Maybe I'd do it, if it meant not losing you.”
Will is reminded of Mike's confession yet again, as if it's not what he was thinking constantly about for the last three hours. Of how he admitted to be terrified to never see Will again, scared to lose him, he had lived in fear of his sudden disappearance. As Will looks right back into Mike's wild eyes, he has no doubt that he'd most probably do it if he was in Michael's place – and the thought makes Will feels warm and fuzzy inside, it makes him feel wanted and needed back, it's not an unilateral sentiment anymore. It makes him almost start to giggle again, the bubble of happiness and excitement ready to explode right inside his chest.
Lucas coughs, trying to catch both his and Mike's attentions back to the topic after they stared at each other for maybe too long. Dustin mumbles something to Eleven's ear indicating first Mike, than Will, and Will hears something similar to Mike's gonna be more insufferable and clingy than he's ever been with you, ugh, making Eleven barely hold a chuckle.
“It's going to be fine, Mike.” Will ends up saying, and he can clearly feel the blood rushing in his cheeks, and no wonder he now probably looks as red as a tomato. “Let's take your things, yes? Then we go.” he says finally at Michael, who coolly nods, stepping to the living room to where he left his armor and his elm after he cleaned them yesterday evening.
Mike follows him around for all the time Michael needs to get his things together, while Will turns back into his room to change his clothes for something more appropriate to go outside than what he uses for pajamas. He keeps complaining about Michael, constantly, a white noise in the background as Will tidily folds his The Cure shirt and shorts, and he still tries to convince Will not to go, because he doesn't like it and he's, well, he's jealous and now Will's his boyfriend and he's allowed to be jealous. Most of all, Mike points out, he doesn't like the idea of Will alone with someone he kissed before, thank you very much. When Will asks if he doesn't trust him, Mike just shrugs and says: I trust you with my life, but I don't trust other people in general, especially when it concerns you. Will chooses to not feel offended – on the contrary, he sort of likes it. His mind is still contemplating at how Mike has said my boyfriend, to care for the rest.
Michael profoundly thanks Eleven, Lucas and Dustin, and totally ignores Mike even once he reaches Will's side, dressed with the armor on and the elm under his armpit. He asks to thank Will's mom and Hopper in his behalf for their hospitality, sad that he can't do it personally, receiving just a groan from Mike at that.
Then Michael bows, before stepping outside the front door, and Will follows him, not after giving Mike a reassuring smile. He just feels strangely queasy about it.
Outside, it still smells of rain.
Will had smelt rain since the night he foolishly made a wish upon a star, even if the sky was and still is devoid of clouds, blue and clear and sunny. It's humid and he doesn't understand why, but he can see the grass wet under his shoes, the leaves up on the trees covered with dewdrops, he can feel the air chill and it makes him shiver – he has dressed lightly, a half-sleeved shirt and knee-length pants. He didn't think it could be cold my any means. He hates the cold. He feels queasy.
“Are you cold, my liege?” Michael's voice is soothing, walking right beside him into the woods. “It is my duty to preserve your wellbeing. Let me lend you my coat.” he says, and he doesn't even wait for Will to answer that he smoothly takes his fur coat off his body to put delicately on Will's shoulder. He feels immediately better, a warmth filling him as soon as his naked arms are covered.
He still feels queasy, though. Nauseous since he left home, since he smiled at Mike and chided him for being childishly spitting venom at Michael with his eyes, even if deep inside, Will was glad to be the center of Mike's attention, even if it's just for a petty rivalry. “You shouldn't have.” Will says to Michael, eyes on the ground, guilty choking him, “But thank you.”
“Anything for you, William.”
Will doesn't respond to that. If the night before, the way Michael acted with him had flattered him, now it makes him feel strange, weird, wrong. It's the guilt, Will tells himself with a sigh, I just feel guilty. I led him on, brought him here from his dimension, used his grief to take pleasure. I really feel guilty. That's why. It's the only reason. Nothing else.
When Will finally recognizes the clearing – he just followed his guts, he doesn't feel any pull leading like yesterday morning when the gate was open – he sighs again, now relieved. He feels bad about it, but he's glad that it's almost over: his weak heart can't take it anymore. It's been like a roller coaster – one moment he's flown, head over heels, filled with a high he's never felt before; the other he's falling, a gut-wrenching feeling deep down his belly; then he's up, up again, walking on clouds, lighter than ever. Now he feels like sinking again, on the edge of a slide, but he knows that it's about to end, that when he'll turn back home he's going to find his, hopefully, balance again, a harmony he's chased all his life and it has been just out of reach until now.
God. He wants to be with Mike again, back in his room. There's so many things he wants to do, now that he can. He doesn't want to wait anymore – he's waited long enough, if he has to says so himself.
Michael doesn't talk as he carefully places the elm on the ground. Will sees as he pulls his hands in a prayer, and murmurs a few words in a language Will doesn't recognize, a chant that's hypnotic and melodic. A faint golden light appear on Michael's skin, then the smell of rain intensified, and the sensation he felt the morning before reappears suddenly, almost leaving him breathless – it's not pulling at him anymore, it's not calling him, guiding him, but it's there. Not much after, a crack resonates, and a tear appears in the air, hovering just above the ground, a harsh, bright light coming from it that's blinding, and Will can't really see anything near it – he just feels the cold.
It's almost like he isn't supposed to see, so he isn't able to.
“I must tell you, my love. My other self is indeed similar to me, if not more of a fool.” Michael's voice is calm and he doesn't look perturbed about the glimpse of his home from the gate. Will hears chaos coming from it, and he's probably not suppose to hear that too, because he's feeling faint, an acute ring sound filling his ears. He can feel a droplet of blood coming out of his nostril, and he barely thinks that this is maybe why Michael was injured in the first place when they found him – he wasn't in a battle, he wasn't fighting a monster from his world. He just crossed a bridge he wasn't supposed to cross. “He had confessed he would force you to submit to his volition, if it means not losing you, correct? We think alike.” Michael turns, and his face is not threatening, nor menacing. It's devoid of any color. “I do really believe I would act the same.”
Will takes a step behind, heart beating fast in his chest. “W–What?”
“Perchance I should only...” Michael approaches calmly, brings a hand on Will's face to cradle a cheek. The hand is still brightened gold, and it's warm at the contact. Will feels cold enough that he doesn't recoil from the touch, but the queasiness in his stomach intensified at that. “What did he suggest? Push you into the gate against your will?”
“You wouldn't. Just like Mike wouldn't, really.” Will realizes he's not scared. Maybe he feels a little panicking, because what the hell, why always him? Why nothing ever goes smoothly in his damned life? But it's true, he's not scared. Michael, just like Mike, wouldn't do that if it meant hurting Will in the process.
Michael smiles, and there's nothing malicious in that, Will can see it, no matter what he's trying to say. “Would you get the chance? Fight the possibility?”
Will doesn't know how to respond to that, rooted on the spot, harsh light blinding him, deafening sound making him faint. He's not afraid, it's true, and deep down he knows that no version of Mike would ever do something like that against his will, but – in front of him there's a desperate, grieving man. What would Will do if he was in his place? Probably the same thing–
“I would become a fallen, I would elect the evil, the obscure, morph into a shadow for you. I would break my oath, I would go against the vows I prayed to the Gods for you. Alas, I would do all this for you... not against you.”
“Oh.” Will breathes. He's relieved, honestly... and kinda turned on. Just because Michael represents the height of all his fantasies about Mike, it doesn't mean he isn't drown into him anymore. Will's mind is still a mess of want and need, and it's still so hard to separate the two. Especially now that he's confused, overwhelmed and hazy.
“There is one request I must ask of you, though, my liege.” Michael continues, hand still on Will's cheek. He steps closer, so much that Will can feel his breath crash heavily over his lips when Michael leans, glowing gold, an holy sight. “One kiss. As a farewell. A last kiss I haven't been allowed to give to my William.”
Will thinks that it's the least he can do. He had taken a kiss – more kisses – from him the night before, wallowing in his self pity, leeching into the absence the Will of Michael's dimension had carved in his heart just to satisfy his own loneliness – it should be just as balanced as it could be to return the favor now. No sound comes from his mouth, though, but Michael evidently seems to take the silence as an agreement, because he leans down more, so much that their lips almost touches, a faint graze that would have turned to a proper kiss – if Will didn't turn his head to the side, leaving Michael to place an innocuous brush of lips just under his eye – the image of a betrayed Mike plastered at the back of his mind, the guilt gnawing a him just at the mere thought. “Sorry, I'm so sorry–” Will croaks, voice broken, eyes squished closed, “You should– you should let this kiss be your Will's, not mine. And I– I can't – I'm just– sorry–”
Michael breathes out a laugh. It's not bitter, nor vicious – instead, it's endearing, as if he expected exactly this from Will. “Just like my William.” he, in fact, hums amused. “He would not have kissed a sole soul if not me. Not even a me from diverse realm.”
“You're not my Mike.” Will says, and maybe he says it defensibly, but it comes out feebly.
“Alas, you are not my William. Regardless of how strongly I desired for it.”
Will opens his eyes as he feels Michael's fingers close around one of his wrists. Staring at their connected hands, he followed the movement as Michael brings it to his mouth, placing a kiss right in the middle of his slightly sweaty palm, his heartbeat so loud that Michael is probably feeling it against his lips – they are stretched in a smile, a sad but peaceful one, and finally Will can feel his nausea quietens, the guilt shaming in an echo so only the tiredness remains. There's a thin trail of blood pouring from Michael's head, and something inside of Will is urging him to move, quick, there's not much time left, move, move, move–
The golden lights coming from the gaping gate behind Michael seem to turn impossibly harsh, now, and Will can't almost hear what Michael says to him over the trill sounding in his ears. “Farewell, my love. Perhaps we will be fortunate enough to encounter each other again in another lifetime.”
After those words, it's all a blur. Will can't see nor hear anything beyond the earsplitting sound and the dazzling light – he can't even describe what he's feeling right now. Suddenly, nothing. When he opens his eyes that he closed when he shielded himself, there's just emptiness in front of him: not the gate, not Michael. Will still has his fur coat over his shoulder, the only proof that he hasn't imagined anything. It smells dump, stale, wild. He hasn't noticed before.
Then, it finally starts to rain. Weird.
“Is that blood?”
That's the first thing Will hears as he enter inside his house. It shouldn't have passed much time since he followed Michael to the clearing, but Mike looks like he was one step away from running into the woods – Lucas and Eleven are at each of his sides, probably they had to stop him every time he tried. Dustin is cheerfully chewing at what remains of Will's – and Michael's – breakfast, sitting at the table as if he had no care at all.
“Will. Hey.” Mike approaches him and his hands hover over his face, looking like he doesn't know where to touch first. Then, he wipes a thumb under his nostril, “Is this your blood? What the hell happened?”
“It's nothing, don't worry.” Will smiles. “He's gone. It was–” he bites his lower lip, searching for the right words. “Intense.”
“Took you long enough to come back.” Lucas groans, exasperated. “Lover boy here thought that Mike the Brave kidnapped you. He said: you don't understand, Lucas!” he parrots Mike, high-pitching his voice of an octave as Mike splutters at him, “I know what he thinks, who would let Will go? Of course he'll try something! Blah blah blah. It was getting boring.”
Will pursues his lips. He decides not to tell any of them of how close Mike had been with that. But even if he didn't say anything, he probably made a face that lets Mike stare at him suspiciously, and he narrows his eyes as he traces all over his body in search of any other wounds, “What? Will, what? Something did happened, right?”
“Nothing happened, Mike. Relax.” Will sighs – and he isn't lying, literally nothing really happened. He likes Mike's protectiveness, obviously, and he really missed the feelings, but– “I'm here, I'm fine, and he's gone. This is just some kind of... consequence of being too close to a, um, parallel universe, I guess. Relax.” he repeats, and meanwhile he takes Mike's hand in his just because now he can, feeling him tightening back immediately with no shame, with no embarrassment.
Mike doesn't seem convinced, but looks like he decides to drop it. With his other hand, he grabs the wet from the rain fur coat from Will's shoulder and throws it on the floor, “You don't need this anymore.” he says, petty, putting the same arm in its place, hugging Will and raising a chin at their friends, daring them to say something at that.
“Gross.” Dustin says, as predicted. Will knows he's joking, and he chuckles as Dustin winks at him, as if he's telling him I'm messing with you. Well, with Mike, specifically. Can you see how triggered he is?
Mike irritatingly clicks his tongue, “Don't be homophobic, Dusty-bun.”
“Yes, Dustin, don't be homophobic. It's wrong.” Eleven tells him with a frown, placing her hands on her hips. She sounds very serious, and that makes all of them, sans Dustin, burst out laughing.
Dustin groans loudly, throwing his arms around, “Oh my God, El, I am kidding! I am!”
Lucas joins the conversation saying something that Will doesn't catch, because Mike leans down to whisper directly in his ear – it makes him shiver, the vicinity. He thinks he'll never get used to this, no freaking way. “So. He really didn't try anything? Not even a kiss?”
“He just kissed my hand.” Will confesses. He can't really lie to Mike – maybe he can omit things, or slightly alter his words, but the times he lied to him can be counted on the fingers of one hand. And he doesn't even want to. He smirks, when Mike rumbles a motherfucker under his breath, “I wouldn't have liked anything more, so he didn't.”
Mike grimaces. He rises their joined hands, putting them close to his face, “And you liked a kiss on your hand?”
“Just as a goodbye.” Will smiles, cheeky, “You're jealous.” and he says giddily, as if he can't really believe it. Mike Wheeler, Will's boyfriend, jealous of him. The Will of only three days ago would have died just knowing this.
“I already said and I repeat it if you want. I am. By nature, Will.”
Will laughs, “Yes.” he says, “Tell me again. I sort of like it.”
“Well, how about I show you instead? Maybe in your room? Alone? Without some peeping toms staring at us!” he finishes his sentence with a shout, turning his head from Will's side to look back at Lucas, Dustin and Eleven, all three cooing at them. Dustin has even his hands cradle under his chin, and Will is imagining him moving his legs under the table in excitement. “Assholes! Not you El, but you two, God, one day I'll kill you two with my bare hands–”
Will stares at Mike's profile. He's beautiful, he really is, lanky and pale and all sharp angles. His cheeks are slightly red, hair cutely falling over his forehead and around his jaw. Regardless of what he is saying, Mike looks happy, giddy just like Will. He loves him. Will Byers loves Mike Wheeler. And Mike Wheeler loves Will Byers back. Or he's in the way, at least. Will can clearly see it in his dark, bright, lively eyes, Will is not blind anymore. That's why he hides his giggle behind his palm – he feels so free, so so so free – then he tries and succeed to draw Eleven's attention on him, and she definitely notices the mischief that's surely written all over his face. God, he really needed this, being so carefree, not to be afraid anymore, being so in love that he can burst out of happiness any time now.
He just hopes that, in every dimension or universe or realm, he could be this happy too. Even if he has to suffer for a while to reach it, it is definitely worth the waiting.
Will tightens his grip on their joined hands, “Hey, Mike. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Anything for you, Will.” Mike smiles, and blatantly ignores as Dustin and Lucas parrot him back, on hand over their chests as they repeat: anything for you, Will!
If I die here, like this, exactly like this, I'll die happy. Please, if I have to die, let me die just like this.
Will really, really doesn't want to die at all.
“Can you put that on sometimes?” Will asks, barely containing a laugh as he points at the puddle of fur coat lying on the floor, “I think it's kinda sexy.”